SANta gift! & some posts write themselves: time sucks, MULTIPLE car stalls, approaching surprise go-time, & more

Silly me, thinking I might not post again before Christmas. I totally blanked on sharing my Secret SANta gift even though so handy. Two pairs of warm, cozy gloves arrived just before our very cold Chicago weather a few weeks ago. Thank you,  Daria at Mom of Children. 

*I'm behind on commenting and replying, I apologize. I'm reading - between doing stuff. 

Things that are taking longer, because that's fun . . . followed by other updates:

1. I hodge-podge photo ornaments for my daycare tots. This year I downloaded a bazillion photos while on my way to a show with my brothers and folks. Great use of time while Pat drove us to the city. Later, I tried to order the photos for pickup, but - no coupon? Snapfish always has coupons . . . but apparently only for mail orders vs local pickup. Reloaded pics to Walgreens site. Cost me $15 vs $41. But SO MUCH TIME. 

Unrelated:  it wasn't until I was in the
 pew at mass thatI feared a heel had
 broken off my shoe.
 I felt lopsided. I was
 wearing two different Fly
London shoes. Oops. 

2. I bought matching stockings in '23, SEE:  'new girls'. Kay's name is spelled differently since we finalized the adoption, so I ordered her a new one at Personalization Mall. Then I ordered both girls ornaments (due to their orn. deficit). Did they offer 'spend $50, get free shipping?' Nope. Their warehouse is a stone's throw away, but they stopped allowing customers to pick up. To add insult to injury, it took me an entire nap time to get photos to work on the sport-themed ornaments - too grainy, wrong format, didn't fit the space. Total time-suck. 

3. Speaking of time-sucking orders. The heart pendants? The place didn't understand 'trad monogram' ie last name initial in larger font, in the center, staggered. I spent several days sharing photos of what I was looking for. Sheesh. I didn't want Kay's monogram to be:  KAS. Not a word, but not NOT a word, like would people ask what KAS was? I paid for expedited shipping, but no idea if those will arrive on time now. 

4. Poems - Done earlier than ever. Sent to the printer Monday the 8th. They usually print them in a few days. When I emailed 'Update?' they responded:  DOING THEM MONDAY. A whole week? Not earth shattering but I was bummed. 

Me:  Sigh

Coach:  What's wrong?

Me:  Poems taking longer. . . 

Coach:  OH, I THOUGHT SOMETHING HAPPENED. THAT'S NOT A BIG DEAL. 

Me:  (do I even need to share my response?) Oh, it's not? And you know this how? I wanted them done - in the mail, off  my list. Not that you would know anything about that. Do you shop? Generate gift ideas? Scour the internet for items? I allotted time over the weekend to stuff, lick, stamp . . . 

Pardon me. Hope you weren't
 planning on leaving any time soon. 

4. I was gonna write a whole post about this, but cliff notes. My dad can't drive anymore - or shouldn't, so he gifted us his ancient Rendezvous. I swear the other cars are ticked- they've all started acting up. On Monday, two of our fleet of 5 cars died . . . while I was driving them.  

Two separate instances. One AM. One PM.

Being stranded twice in one day - major time-suck. Oh, and it was FREEZING. I'm still thawing out. (I removed the deets, maybe next time - this post is SO long). 

Wig?

5.  Last weekend, Coach and I contemplated staying in the city. (SEE:  redo anniversary stay). Girls were at camp. Ed and roomies were having parents down for dinner/party at his apt. We thought about it. One of us (yes -ME!) spent time looking at hotels. Ultimately we bailed on that plan. It was FREAKY cold. Not fun to wander the city. Ed's party was so much fun. Tank was there too. 

Pat took this pic on
 the way home
- me sleeping in
the backseat.

6.  On Sunday, we took my folks (my sisters couldn't come) to see a John Denver singer. All credit goes to Pat for the idea. Pat:  I wonder if Mom and Dad will remember that he's dead and this is just a guy singing his songs? The dude wore a horrible wig, and my dad wasn't convinced it was a wig. Tell me you're 85 without telling me. When my mom reached over and took dad's hand during Follow Me, I sat in the dark theater and wept. So touching. 

Mom & Dad - holding hands.

7.  Tomorrow morning:  Thursday . . . a niece and nephew will fly in to surprise Curly. In my 'spare time' (SEE:  lies I tell), I'm meal planning and trying to convince people to clean the kids' shower and organize bedrooms (I don't really care - the house is organized because of last week's party and teens don't notice bedroom clutter). I've not told Reg or the little girls about the surprise. Hoping to get some good footage of Curly's face, but not even sure how we will surprise her. She'll be done with exams and maybe walk in and they'll be here? It'll be a go-time decision. Stay tuned. 

Harder to see hand holding,
plus our view of the stage.

8.  After another frustrating stretch with Kay, we attended fam therapy session Monday. Therapist related emails, solo/ joint therapy sessions, and emails to teachers . . . well, that's a time commitment all of its own. BUT IN GREAT NEWS, and I do think this post could use some great news:  I got a call yesterday that we're off the waiting list for adoption preservation therapy. The therapist will come to the house and meet with us. AND IT'S FREE! I'm so hoping this'll move us forward. 

9.  Shopping:  well, I've done some. Clothes mostly - not what I wanted to do. Still trying to scrape together some other ideas. Maybe another pair of shoes for Kay and Rae? Now that we can do that at Kohl's, it's affordable. I think they'll be excited to have another pair of shoes. 

Reg was stamping cards on the couch. Hours
after he dropped the cards at the post office,
I noticed he forgot this stack. Some
 people will get their card a day later. 

10.  I'd be remiss if I didn't share that Reg has been an absolute life saver. I shudder to think of where I'd be without him. He's done post office 3x, groceries, Target, babysitting, jumping cars, pushing stalled cars, poem pick up (30 min away), stamp & stuff cards, driving little girls, etc. He really is a worker bee. 

ALL OF THIS WHILE . . . movement is punctuated by occasional stabbing pain from a scab on my back. I had a thing burned off of my back last week - 2nd time. Along my bra line. This time? Might've burned thru my ribcage. 

*****

I already wished ya'll a Merry Christmas and who knows - maybe I'll pop back in. May you each have a Reg in your life to do all.the.things. - especially if you're like me:  the key Merry Maker. 

What's taking you longer than expected right now?  Have you ever unintentionally worn mismatched shoes?

 

1 (short) funny thing Friday: a multi-talking misadventure & clean kitchen pics

Taken the next morning.
 Someone brought me
that poinsettia. You can kind of
 see my village set up on the buffet. 

We're all busy - so without further ado: 

Coach took Wednesday off. He told me Tues evening. This stemmed from having days that he couldn't carry over, but I'll take it. (refresher:  I was having a party Wed. evening) I'd contemplated taking the two tots I had (an unusually light Wednesday) to the mall. I wanted to buy each guest an ornament from Von Maur. They'd wrap them all fancy-like. 

Now I could escape at naptime.

The snack bar with fridge drawers.
 I keep my laptop here to
 be used while babysitting. Ignore
 the stationary bike, rolled
 in for my workout.

Only hitch:  I had a zoom with my gastroenterologist. A checkup scheduled months ago. The office called me in the am:  Any new meds or falls?  etc. 

I'd sort of hoped they were calling to cancel. 

The staff:  Please sign into the zoom at 12:45 - the doc will hop on at 1:10. 

I laughed. Out loud. This doctor must think she's pretty busy. 

Party ready.

I signed into the zoom on my phone at 12:45 and drove to the mall. I arrived and walked around with my phone out, so I could see when the doc popped onto my screen. I selected a dozen different ornaments and hurried to the checkout. 

The salesman put each in a cute tiny box with a gift receipt. He was about halfway done . . . 

DING signaling I've been released from the zoom waiting room - no time, my doctor's voice:  HI! HOW ARE YOU? ARE YOU AT WORK?

A rare clear island. Miracles do happen.

Well, shit. I'd figured I could just duck into some empty corner of the lingerie department (what Curly used to call the no-look department, because of the  mannequins dressed in bras). I fumbled to turn down my volume a tad. It was now 1:35 - only 25 minutes behind schedule. 

Me:  Hi. No, I'm uh, checking out of the store.

Doc:  Oh, OK. How've you been feeling? How are your

BOWEL MOVEMENTS. 

Well, there it was. Let's dive right in. I'd not gotten the volume down low enough where only I could hear her, so now the entire gift department was aware that someone in their midst needed to chat with a doc about her bathroom habits. 

I successfully turned the volume down most of the way and smiled at the screen and nodded. "I'm good. Nothing new. Everything's fine. I take my meds and sleep fine. All good."

Taken the next morning -
if you look closely . . .
there's a tot playing in
the middle of the room. 

Doc:  ABOUT HOW MANY BOWEL MOVEMENTS ARE YOU HAVING A DAY?

I tried to signal her the answer by rapidly blinking, but she wasn't catching onto my attempt at Morse Code. 

Picture me nodding profusely as she took a stab: LIKE TWICE A DAY? 

Me:  U-HUH, MORE. 

We played footsie with this answer for awhile until I whispered into the phone:  you do remember that you guys have me taking Miralax twice a day, right? So whatever your best guess is multiply that by four. I'm fine. I wish you could figure out what's wrong with me and not just manage my symptoms, but I'm fine. 

This worked in her favor, because shortest visit ever. The patients waiting forever all benefited:  You're welcome! While she recovered from being behind, I continued to blink excessively while pretending to be fixated on the great job the older man was doing packing my ornaments. 

I acted the story out at my party, and it was a hit - or maybe that was the charcuterie board and wine talking. (In December when Kyria asks what I learned, I've got my answer:  I can never, no matter what, learn to pronounce charcuterie).

If you'll excuse me, my phone dinged. It's 8:45 pm (Thursday night) and I need to drink my Miralax . . . in my clean kitchen. Wonders never cease. 

*****

Do you rely on hosting to force your house into order? Can you pronounce charcuterie? What's your favorite charcuterie item? Have you ever unwittingly overheard a doctor appointment while out shopping? 

If I don't post before Christmas/whatever you celebrate, I hope you and yours have a joyous time full of laughter and relaxation. 

Scattered, but succeeding - 5 things, good, bad, and ugly & who wants a Christmas card?

I'm here. I'm alive. I'm interrupting my own blog-break to post. I'm gonna try to limit it to 5 things, because it seems we bloggers love things in fives. 

Grateful to last year's version of me for
this list of addresses to update
and cards that were sent but returned.

I'm no where near prepared to host a party on Wednesday, so perfect time to create a new envelope mail merge (am I alone here - this task promises to elicit more bad words and potentially tears than any other) vs organize/clean/declutter my house that is still suffering from November (If I'm being honest - I can't limit it to Nov. I've been on an ignore-the-clutter spiral for MONTHS). I'm updating my address spread sheet and writing this post even though I'm in desperate need to kick it into high gear for party prep. 

5 THINGS (in no order:  the good, the bad, & the ugly):

1. (good) GW broke down the day before T-giving. It did start eventually (Reg drove it to the gym and after his workout it started, but then died while midway backing out of his parking spot). Coach got it over to our mechanic. On Tuesday they let us know - they could find nothing wrong. The legend lives. Curly suggested that if it died (we don't plan to pour any more $ into it), we'd have to dismantle it and display parts of it around the house. *Bought GW when Curly was 16 mos. She'll be 18 the 19th. 

This is the charm bracelet my folks gifted
 me years ago. Every time I had a baby,
 they gave me another baby charm.
 My mom had little diamond
chips added to the girl babies
 - of course she did.
 We asked the jeweler how much to create
 Kay and Rae charms. $2K/each. I dislike
wearing it without them represented, but
 at that price - I think they'd
 rather a trip to Florida. 

2. (good) SHHHH! We're flying Curly's 2 fav cousins in from SC Dec. 18th to surprise Curly for her b-day. Her high school class lacks an abundance of great friend options. Her 2 besties are from travel ball and they don't live nearby. She's gonna lose her mind. Prayers for good weather, so this all happens. If there's a snow day, she's gonna have finals on the 19th. 

3. (ugly) I've not purchased or planned a single gift. For anyone. We hoped to travel but waiting for the b-ball schedule means flights would be 1k each. 

In our world, I bring the merry. If I don't kick it in gear, there'll be no gifts. Coach and I tried to buy Kay and Rae necklaces at a jeweler Friday. Think heart charm with their new initials engraved, adoption date on the back. These items would live in my room, only worn for special occasions. The jeweler quoted the heart pendant alone at $1,100/EACH! - not including a chain. #clueless #rethinking my best gift idea. 

What TJs looks like if
you shop at closing.

4. (good) I don't shop at Trader Joe's. It's not in my neck of the woods. It's only 15 min, but I can barely make it to the regular grocery store that's 1.2 miles away. I had a $50 gift card from Coach's patient - rec'd it prob a decade ago. Last night before they closed, I went to get stuff for my first ever charcuterie board at my college alumnus Christmas party Wednesday. A store worker helped me so much. I spent $100, but hooray for the g.c.

5. (bad) My house - we don't have a tree. There are no lights up. There's clutter everywhere. (my village houses are on display tho) My kitchen, well I'm avoiding going in there. Current location:  hiding in my study. I know it'll get done. I stayed up late. Reg asked me to edit/look over a paper. I should NOT have done this before bed. Dumb. 

Oh, wait - best news . . . I completed the Shenanigan family Christmas poem, arranging photos in the margins - a painstakingly long process. A labor of love. I'll send it to the printer today - earliest ever. My cards arrived weeks ago. Thus tackling my addresses/envelopes . . . as a procrastination tool. 

bonus (5 is a small # it turns out):  

Inside of Wilde - an amazing
 restaurant in Tank and Ed's hood.

• allergy shots Friday (drove halfway there Thursday in rush hour because I knew I could sleep in on Friday, but after I called to verify the shot times - missed the window and did a U-turn). My shots make me sleep like the dead - who remembers when I slept thru a tornado that literally turned our neighborhood into a near disaster area? so many trees/chimneys downed - but no one died, even though I was apparently giving it my all. Anyway, Saturday I slept till 8 am. 9.5 hrs.  
• One baby's dad took paternity leave, so my week is light - specifically Monday, which is when I plan to make so much of the food for Wed. 



Outside decor at Wilde - where we
 took Tank for his b-day dinner. 

• Tank's bday was Friday. We drove to the city, dropped a cooler of drinks/food on Ed's back porch (he had his work party, so wasn't joining us), met Tank our for dinner, then walked back to his place. His roomies had retrieved the cooler/hung the photos I'd sent, and a small gathering of his buddies surprised him. 
• my lips are a mess - not from meeting anyone under mistletoe for a make out session. No amount of Vaseline or Chapstick will help. As if I have time, I'm going to the dermatologist Tuesday. 

*****

crowd source question:  thoughts on the engraved jewelry idea? Do I need to go to a different jeweler, or is that how much these things cost IRL? Aside from my wedding ring, my only jewelry has been gifted to me by my folks. Open to ideas. 

If you'd like me to mail you a Christmas card, please email me your address with 'CHRISTMAS POEM' in the subject line. If you think I have your address, you're fine. My email is my IRL last name clan7@yahoo.

Any other gift ideas for the whole fam - so I can avoid shopping for 'stuff'? I'm contemplating gifting flights for spring break, but we can't all go together. 

Another post? The anniversary adventure - starring me as a honeymooning Carol Brady

(* might want to read the first part of this saga - it'll deliver more laughs that way). On the 60 min round trip drive to the far south side, an area we wouldn't normally venture at night, I regaled Coach with tales from when we started dating and when he proposed, etc. so we stayed 'in the moment' . . . sort of. After leaving the car, we went to another bar. After a short attempt to rally and hang, we called it a night and returned to the hotel. 

The next morning, we went to mass and then breakfast. We had to transport Tex from the street to the repair shop. Would Ed handle it? Ed wasn't interested. I offered to cook a vat of chili for he and his friends in the fall during football viewing. 

He took pity and tried to uber there. Then texted Coach:  "Is this a not-so-great area, because all the ubers are cancelling?" 

Yes, we did replace
the $50 used tire
 with a $100 new tire the
next week. Why do you ask?

I waved the white flag. "Tell him we'll do it. It's fine. We can get the minivan from the garage, get Tex pulled into the repair shop get a new tire. Then we can go enjoy the rest of our Sunday."

The woman working at the repair shop couldn't have been nicer. She was missing most of her front teeth. I told Coach I wanted to donate dental care for her. It broke my heart.

I think it was $50 for the tire, 30 min later we were on our way. I followed Coach in the minivan to park Tex on the street near McCormick Place. To get there, GPS took us through some scary areas. I begged the traffic lights to stay green, so I didn't have to stop, worrying the popped tire would end up with Coach and I being shot or car jacked. It was feeling like a scene from a movie, and I was so relieved when we got outta there.  

Together in the minivan, we headed to the beach, which I thought was odd. Whenever I suggested we do something else, Coach said we were going to the beach for at least a little bit. 

We parked at the zoo, and walked to the beach - on the sidewalk people were leaning up against the little buildings that sell ice cream, etc - they seemed to be enjoying the shade. I noticed a kid  - who looked just like Reg. He was averting his eyes. I did a double take. Wait, it WAS Reg. 

Did he sneak downtown instead of caddying? . . . then I noticed - ALL OF OUR OTHER KIDS WERE LEANING IN A ROW NEXT TO HIM all of them averting their eyes.

I stopped walking - "WAIT? WHAT ARE . . . ?" 

Coach was standing ahead of me on the sidewalk, grinning.  

The kids put on sunscreen and went into the water, and I stood there blinking. Not gonna lie, I was like WHAT THE WHAT? I THOUGHT WE CAME DOWN HERE TO BE ALONE? Even the fam therapist had advised me to enjoy the getaway and to not even talk about Kay (she'd been pushing my buttons so much at that point). 

Then Coach explained.

Ed, Mini, Reg, and Curly
playing spike ball.

We'd gone to the beach earlier in the summer with just the 3 youngest girls, and Curly admitted to Coach that it wasn't the same without the older sibs. So, Coach asked all the kids to show up on this day, to give Curly a bit of a do-over, beach-fun-wise . . . on our anniversary. 

Well, it wasn't exactly what I had in mind for our weekend away, but Coach's beach mindset was sweet. 

Remember -  when Mike and Carol Brady got married? (I'm talking Brady Bunch Show, 70's flashback) The kids missed their folks, and Alice brought all of them to Mike and Carol's honeymoon? Did I feel a tad like Mrs. Brady on her honeymoon?

Yes, yes I did. 

*****

If Reg hadn't puked on T-giving, I'd not have added that trendy post and I would've ended NaBloPoMo with my Carol Brady line. Anyway, thanks for hanging with me this last month. High praise for San, our fearless organizer. I'm hosting a party Dec. 10th for my local college alums, so peace out while I clean my house, and decorate. Who votes Coach and I get a downtown overnight redo the weekend of Dec. 12th when the girls go off to camp?

NaBloPoMo: closing in on the NaBloPoMo finish line with our Aug. anniversary story

NaBloPoMo - the last day! I've enjoyed reading new blogs and connecting with you in comments. I admit that my response to comments has dropped off. I'll get back there soon.

The anniversary story I've been promising:

Coach planned for us to go downtown overnight to celebrate our anniversary on Aug. 10th. 

Midweek Tank called:  a buddy from Creighton is having a grad party in southern Illinois and my roomies and I wanna go. We'll stay the night. They're Hispanic, the food'll be amazing. 

I got the hint - he'd need a car. 

Me:  We'll drive two cars down that Friday. You can use a car.  

Friday:  We unloaded more furniture for Tank's place that we'd stored in our garage. Then Coach and I tossed Tank the Tex (Ford Focus bought from my uncle a few years ago) FOB before driving off in the minivan. 

We checked into the Westin, and parked in the nearby garage, and walked to dinner. About halfway there, Tank called. 

Me:  Tank? You OK?

Tank:  Um, we're fine, but the car - well, we hit a pothole and popped a tire. We're in a bad spot and I don't wanna get hit but I don't think we're supposed to drive on the rims, right?

Coach got on the phone:  You can drive a bit - not like miles, but get somewhere safe. You can drive 100 yards.

Good food, but loud TVs
 and paper plates and
 seat yourself at sticky tables and chairs -
 not the vibe we were going for. Most of
 the sides were not GF. No baked potato?
 C'mon. But hey, this was the
 least of our problems. 

We hung up, and he was gonna try to change the tire. 

We ate at a BBQ place, way more casual than we anticipated. We ended up being on the phone or too stressed to talk between phone calls anyway. 

Tex didn't have a spare. The only option was to tow the car to a place with Sunday hours. 

I kept trying to figure out a way for them to get to the party. It didn't happen. In hindsight, Tank should've called Lad first in case he could get a tire from the dealership where he worked.

The night was young, so we shifted to relax mode at an Irish bar and had a drink. Then we got ice cream. Who says a night out can't be punctuated with ice cream? Coach's phone rang.

Tank:  The tow guy called - he thinks the car's still on. This whole thing is awful. We left hungry and sat there for hours and just got back to our apartment. 

Coach texted Lad to see if he thought the car might turn itself off. It's a hybrid, so it's quiet. The tow guy needed the car to be on in order to move the car, but it kept turning off . . . honestly, I don't even know. 

Lad looked it up - said he wasn't sure, but it was a bad idea to leave it running - might hurt the engine - not to mention someone could steal it. 

We walked back to the hotel to get the parking ticket so we could drive to check on Tex. I opted to drink my Miralax as long as we were in the room. I drank it, got hollered  for taking too long (tensions were high), we walked to the parking garage, and that's when Coach realized he'd left the parking ticket on the bed (that we'd gone back to the room to get). 

Back to the room. Got the parking ticket. BACK to the parking garage (if you're wondering - I was NOT wearing running shoes). Hunted down a parking garage attendant, who took pity on us. It was a one time in/out fee of $50. Instead he charged us $10. Then a fresh $50 when we returned. 

We drove to the far south side where Tex was parked on the street, verified that the car was NOT running (BTW I had the other Tex key FOB in my purse, for once me not hanging the spare FOB on the hook at home was ideal). Then we drove back to the parking garage to leave the minivan before continuing our night. 

Do we know how to have fun or what?

*****

This is only half of the adventure. You'll crack up at the ending. Can you blame Miralax for distracting someone from retrieving their parking pass? (I didn't think so). Did you know that the gift for the 29th anniversary is rubber?  As in, tires.

NaBloPoMo: meet Reg and Curly

sports obsessed - he drew Chicago
 Bears players all the time.

Reg, our youngest son, will be 20 in January. Since Thanksgiving's incident I have to share  . . . Coach and I flew to Colorado. Reg was 6. We farmed the kids out to various friends. Reg puked nonstop at his best friend's house.  

Same date the next year, Reg made his first communion. After mass, he started puking. He spent his whole party upstairs.

Young Reg was a badass - mouthy and bold. He'd been teased and messed with by his three older brothers. Lad was a teenager, who's favorite insult was:  'Hey, McFat!' When I tucked Reg in, I suggested we God bless his new preschool teacher (he was a lively one, I figured - she'd need that blessing).

Reg:  Sure, God bless, McFat! 

I about died. 

I lived in fear of future teachers and principals calling about my punky kid, who believe it or not freaked out if it started to drizzle. He outgrew his fear of rain, and of his badass bit. 

He's always been sports obsessed. 

Sometimes when he got dressed for church at age 4, he'd put his Bears jersey under his dressy sweater or shirt and appear unable to bend his arms. "I'n a footbaw pwayer." 

In high school, he befriended a man from church with an intellectual disability. Reg always gives him time. He meets him at the track to prep for Special Olympics. He went to all of Reg's home basketball games, and they text each other Happy Hump Day on Wednesdays. 

A nightmare thing happened senior year - a coach retaliated against him. Reg has epilepsy, and lost most of his verbal memory as a result of the stressful situation/lawsuit. (caused him mini seizures). He took a gap year, and while he hoped to play b-ball in college -  he prioritized his education/college experience. He's loving Creighton, where he helps manage the b-ball team. 

Reg and Curly - good friends. He'd sneak upstairs while I was cleaning the kitchen after breakfast, snag his blankie and her baby bear, so they could suck their thumbs on the couch during Sesame Street. He'd sidestep through the kitchen with the contraband (only allowed in their beds), saying:  "Nof-ing, Nof-ing." 

Curly turns 18 Dec. 19th. During my 'you're old - we're doing a special ultrasound' (just shy of 37 yrs), I peeked - I didn't think there was a penis, but wasn't 100%. Mini, who was almost 4, stood next to my hospital bed: "Is it a girl baby - do I have a sister?" Days later she asked, "Is it a boy yet?"

Me:  It's gonna stay a girl. They don't grow a penis afterwards - or we'll be on the Jerry Springer show.

Curly clung to me like a monkey her first year. Tummy trouble they never figured out. Unlike her sibs, she was tiny. Once she started whole milk (she never took a bottle), she grew like crazy - there was a bin of clothes she never wore. She stopped looking emaciated. Finally a chubby baby. Allergic to my breastmilk?

She started Irish dancing at age 4, because she was imitating her sibs. She was a natural. We'd holler up the stairs "get in the tub and stop dancing" when she was in kindergarten after hearing her practicing in the bathroom. 

She loves romcoms, basketball, horror/scary movies, competing, time with friends, doing well in school, and although she retired in 8th grade - she was a gifted Irish dancer.

A wise ass older brother
put Easter eggs in her shirt.

Moms that I'd never met would approach me at competitions: "Are  you Curly's mom? My daughter was backstage crying/nervous, etc and Curly befriended her/calmed her/gave her a pep talk. She's amazing and you should be so proud."

We're so proud. 

*****

Favorite romcom? Curly's probably seen it. 

NaBloPoMo: Our Pukes-giving

Reg flew home Tuesday night. He had a big group over in the basement Wednesday night. Coach made waffles Thursday morning. Reg ate a waffle, and then he puked. 

People assumed this was aftermath of drinking. I was busy making food, working out, and organizing all the food we were bringing. When I called down to the basement where Reg, Mini, and Curly were watching Stranger Things late morning, I asked Reg if he was OK. 

Yep, fine. 

We didn't have GW (Great White broke down yesterday - more on that later) to drive the crew to Coach's sister's house near O'Hare - 35 minutes away. Instead we piled our very tall family members plus a few short newbies, 9 in total (Lad drove from his house) into the minivan's 8 seats. 

While I had a captive audience, I read draft 1 of my Christmas poem. Ed suggested they each be allowed one interruption to make suggestions or edits. The four girls were piled into the way back. I had to lean between the two front seats to project my voice, so the girls could hear my rhyme. 

Envision:  minivan barreling down the expressway. Reg wedged between Ed and Tank. Coach driving, me leaning and reading. With literally zero warning, Reg became a fountain of puke. 

It took a moment for me to register the sound of a water faucet being turned on inside our vehicle. 

Say what you will about having a clean car  - how, then, would you cope with an unexpected puker? We pulled over and dug up a few plastic bags, an old towel, and a thing of baby wipes (ah, the life of a babysitter). Ed had a bit of puke on his pants, but miraculously no one else was wearing vomit. (Reg looked as though someone dumped a bucket of water over his torso). 

Me (on the shoulder of the expressway in freezing temps):  Did you have no warning? 

Reg:  I felt really hot, but my stomach didn't hurt. 

Coach dropped us off at his sister's, and drove Reg home. Reg puked again into one of the plastic bags. Then Coach returned to the party. 

It was Coach's dad's b-day.
 My niece made this
 amazing bday cake for him. 

We now sit and wait, like the unwilling science experiment that we are. Will being confined in a car with a sick kid lead to others catching the bug? (Coach blamed Reg for drinking, but Reg swore he didn't overdo and although he felt OK, he admitted to having no appetite). 

The entire family felt lousy and sad that Reg missed the party and cousin time. After he napped, Reg facetimed us. He got to play a game of Code Names while on the phone with the big kid cousins. Aunt sent home a ton of food for him. I had to fight him off when we got home - insisting he wait to eat it. 

Of course I now have to edit my poem to add how me reading the poem caused one of the kids to become violently ill. 

*****

If you were a betting person, chances other people catch the bug? How many? How long till it 'hits?' Fingers crossed, no one else goes down with it.